


As The Rush Comes

by ghostandfriends



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4902313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostandfriends/pseuds/ghostandfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Thomas already feels weak, like he could agree to anything,  but more than that, like he's waiting for the words that will set him free.  It's not Teresa  he wants.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	As The Rush Comes

**Author's Note:**

> based entirely on the scene from the scorch trials, no spoilers, just guys being dudes

The drink burns his throat as he chugs it down, odd metallic taste lingering on the back of his tongue. The man smiles, pleased that they've met his only request, something glinting dangerously in his eyes. Brenda grabs Thomas' sleeve, pulling him away from the strange people outside and toward the thumping bass. A warm feeling has started bubbling in the pit of his stomach, it's heat spreading through his limbs like liquid fire. Thomas can't help but wonder what was in that glass bottle, head starting to feel lighter than air.

They make their way into the building, the closer they get to the epicenter, the more moving bodies they see. Barely clothed girls sway in time with the music, while other less functional people twitch in dark corners. Thomas can barely keep his eyes on Brenda as she weaves through the crowd in front of him, warm bodies and smoke clouding most of his vision. As he looks around, there is no sign that his friends have been here. Brenda turns to him, her face thrown in rotating shadow as he tries to focus on her voice.

"We should split up and look for them," she says, and he can feel himself nodding. "Oh, and Thomas? Don't drink anything else."

It seems as soon as she turns around, she's gone, swallowed whole by the room full of half crazy people. Thomas looks around, feeling lost. The faces of those around him are starting to feel more sinister now that he's alone, and he longs for the comfort of Brenda's small form guiding him through the crowd. The heat in his body has reached new peaks, and he breaks into a sweat. What seem to be friendly smiles start to twist at the edges, making his pulse race. The music is too loud, bass pounding inside of him, around his heart.

He remembers this, somewhat. The feeling of being too close to strangers in a small room, speakers blasting with unintelligible lyrics and sending the crowd into a frenzy of movement. His vision begins to tunnel, and suddenly it's all he can do to stop himself from dancing. Every thump he can feel inside his veins, moving slow and calculated to get him to lose control. A dreamy smile spreads itself across his face, and suddenly Thomas can't remember why he's here anymore. He lets himself be pulled with the crowd, lights bouncing off his face and into the dark surrounding him.

People claw at his body as he moves amongst them, some beg him to stay, others look like they want to eat him. Their laughter echoes inside his head, and his knees are beginning to feel weak. Someone is screaming his name, and it sounds so much like _Her. Who is she? Why am I here?_

There's a halo of white light illuminating the silhouettes of those dancing near him, and it looks for a moment as if the room is full of shadows.

Brenda swims into his vision as if appearing out of thin air. She's the only one he can focus on, the others blurring into the background in a nausea filed swirl of motion. It's like the walls are alive, moving in and out like a huge set of lungs, the muscle of their gray paper undulating like waves in a storm.

"Thomas," she says as if she's whispering, "I found them Thomas."

Her smile stretches too wide, eyes unfocused enough to look like glass replicas. He can't quite register what she's saying, the music shifting into something that makes him want to move more than he's ever wanted anything. He grabs her shirt, trying to convey this with a desperate look. Brenda smiles, laughing like he's told a joke.

"I found them Thomas, they're all here!" She bursts into a fit of giggles again, her childish laughter ricocheting inside of him.

Only now does he realize there's been someone behind her, someone tall and too lanky to be anyone other than Newt, his long lost friend. He emerges from the cloud of smoke backlighting their conversation like a monster out of the fog, eyes shining wickedly under the pulsating lights. Thomas can barely swallow, every cell in his body pulling him forward until he's got Newt grasped in a hug, Brenda swaying slightly to his left. Her smile is dream-like when he turns back to her, face already blending back into the crowd.

Newt's dazed peal of laughter pulls him out of his stupor, and back into a moment of clarity. They've found their friends, they can leave now. _ _ _ __Why can't I leave?__ _ _ _

"Newt, what are you doing?" Thomas asks, feeling a wave of panic wash over him as his friend clings to his shirt.

Thomas tries his best to keep Newt at an arms length, but it's almost impossible with everyone else pressing in on them. His brain is already starting to feel fuzzy again, worry falling away like sand through his fingers.

"I feel good, Tommy," Newt says, voice slurring dangerously, "S'good." Thomas can barely see the flush on his cheeks, skin looking milky white under all of the different lights. It soaks up the color like paint on a canvas, one minute blue, the next a dazzling pink. Newt smiles at him, and leans in.

As if on instinct his hand comes to cup the back of Newt's neck, steadying him as he comes forward, his other hand coming to rest on the boy's hip. Their bodies are locked together, one of Thomas' legs sliding into place between Newt's thighs. The music is loud, but Newt is louder somehow, his presence demanding all of Thomas' attention.

"We found you, Tommy. We can go home now," he's saying, face getting closer with each word. Thomas'heart clenches painfully, pulling him out of the fog of his best friend.

When he leans away, it's her face that he sees, staring back at him with the wonder of that first day. She'd said his name, they'd been unquestionably linked in the past, it was just something he could feel. It was as if that feeling was the only thing keeping him on the ground, stuck to everything he used to be, used to feel.

"But you're not her," he can hear himself saying, feel himself saying, as if expecting it to change something somehow.

It doesn't.

Newt only smiles wider, dimples on full display. Thomas already feels weak, like he could agree to anything, but more than that, like he's waiting for the words that will set him free. It's not Teresa he wants.

"That's the point."

Newt's mouth is open when their lips connect, allowing Thomas to immediately explore the wet heat with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and that awful metallic liquid they drank before entering the party. Newt becomes jelly in his hands, falling limp on his chest to give him better access to the soft lips he's been dreaming of for as long as he can remember, which isn't saying much, but still.

Thomas can't help but feel Newt's body, hands leaving streaks of light as they trace over his chest, his throat, his cheeks, and it all feels so good. He never wants to stop feeling like this, even if it meant he'd never make it to Paradise. Newt's hands begin to slide up his neck, fingers stroking through his hair with fervor. Shivers run up and down his spine, a moan releasing itself with embarrassing intensity. Newt takes this opportunity to slide his tongue back against Thomas', sucking it deep into his mouth and relishing the feeling as they taste each other.

It's like they're in slow motion, jaws moving to the languid thump of bass in the distance, bodies interlocked and swaying in perfect synchronization. Everything around them has faded into a blanket of dull noise, and Thomas feels like he's floating in space, his only anchor Newt's sharp teeth biting harshly into his bottom lip and _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __pulling.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

They break apart when the need for oxygen becomes too much, gasping hotly into each other's mouths, only inches separating them. Newt smiles at him, delirious with intoxication and lust, and maybe something else. For a moment it's just the two of them, back in the glade, breathless from another day of work. Contentment bursts in Thomas' chest like a dam breaking, replacing the fire in his veins with a dull, aching warmth.

Newt nods, answering an unasked question, and his glazed eyes focus in on Thomas' swollen lips. Their mouths crash together like they've been starved for too long, sending his world reeling. Everything begins to twist, the ground coming much closer than it was before. He can feel Newt's manic laughter reverberate through his own chest, and smiles against the boy's mouth. 

The world fades to black.

**Author's Note:**

> its lit


End file.
